Three, two...

Well. This day just went to HELL in a handbasket in one 30-second phonecall. Crap.

23 Days Until Freedom

While I'm spending the next 23 days working two jobs and traveling for one of them for 18--yes, EIGHTEEN--days to the two biggest armpits in the known universe, here's what those of you not in the most heinous caverns of hell* will be doing:

Tonight: Private Anniversary Dinner for Georgetowner (about time they updated their website!)
Famoso, Chevy Chase

Tomorrow, early
O'Neill Studios Party and Show to benefit Cure Autism Now
Left Bank

Tomorrow, later
Jete Society Dance Party
Embassy of Italy
(and it simply must be said: Those invitations kicked ass.)

Tuesday, January 23, 7:00
Sugar & Champagne
Hotel Palomar (Grays: Love them.)

Wednesday, January 24, 6-8
Saks Happy Hour and Book Signing for The Skinny
Saks Chevy Chase

And lookee lookee who's finally getting into the game...
Thursday, January 25, 6-8
Washingtonian Issue Celebration
Bobby Van's Grill

Saturday, January 28, 11:30
Brunch for my fabulous friend's humongous belly
Private Residence
Featuring me walking off of a redeye and directly toward a mimosa.

Tuesday, February 6, 10:00 a.m.
Tickets go on sale for the DSS!

Wednesday, February 7, 6:30
An Evening of Fun & Fashion
Tiffany, Fairfax Square
Hosted by Diane Ray Brown and Nancy Bagley

And for those of you in Park City:
January 20, 11:30
Distinguished Moviemarkers Brunch
Café Brilliant
Who: Fisher Stevens, Ione Skye, Ed Begley, Jr., Lea Tompson

January 21 (all day)
Knock Knock for the Arts in Park City Gifting Lounge
305 Main Street
Who: Famous people needing free loot.

January 22, 6:00 (cocktails at 6, dinner at 7)
Talisker Club
Creative Coalition State of the Union Dinner
Who: Jake Paltrow—holy crap: Ian Ziering AND Daphne Zuniga!—Steve Sunshine**; John Paul DeJoria (Paul Mitchell); Gene Sperling (?!) and about 20 other randoms, producer/writer types.

*However, I will, while in the two most heinous spots in the U.S. of A., be able to carry with me my favorite memory of our Miami weekend: Post Pucci, 400 A-Listers dancing their tails off under the moonlight beachside to "Let The Sun Shine In." Skinny socialites being spun around by their blueblood husbands; Cuban doyennes getting down in humongous heels--it was just a moment of pure, unadulerated joy.

..which COMPLETELY pales in comparison to my new friend Auburn's poolside memory--completely hilarious. And totally classic.

**So are all Sunshines in Hollywood related? Ken Sunshine reps Leo DiCaprio; Steve is the Senior Producer for Extra; Bob and his brother ran ShoWest for years and years (Bob = completely hilarious. I worked with him for a few years and always meant to ask him, but just always forgot).

Things to remember

-If you find the career that you'd do for free, if not for your mortgage and your car and your need to provide square meals for dependents*, then you should figure out a way to do it. Even if you can't do it, say, by 5 p.m. today.
-There will always be an eager beaver 26-year old out nipping at your heels looking to do your job on the cheap.
-Eventually they'll be 36 and figure it out for themselves. Karma from when they (okay, you) were 26.
-Not everyone will understand the value of "not cheap." It's your job to explain your value, but don't be pissed when they still don't understand. Cheap is pretty tempting.
-In the end, rejection, especially if provided with feedback, can be incredibly helpful.
-You may even find yourself consoling yourself over a big fat bottle of Chianti at a remote Italian restaurant reconnecting with the husband you've basically ignored in the midst of all of your hard work. Hypothetically.

*and Botox and LaMer and the occasional B Bag for yourself--but hell, those are even worth giving up for a short while in pursuit of a long term goal. Wow. I just typed that--and meant it. Yikes.

There's nothing more I hate than losing.

Well, except for mayonnaise.

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap.

For those of you who know of my Friday deadline, well, kids, it ain't gonna happen. I just got my first no, and it doesn't like I'll know of the other two until, well, who knows when.

Crap.